


we are stardust, we are golden

by Maggiemaye



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1960s, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Brother Feels, F/M, Flower Children - Freeform, Fluff and Angst, Gen, I rate high so you be the judge, Love at First Sight, Mild Language, Public Nudity (mentioned), Recreational Drug Use (mentioned), Rock and Roll, Woodstock, sort of, that artsy thing where the title is all lowercase
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-17
Updated: 2015-10-17
Packaged: 2018-04-26 18:17:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5015134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maggiemaye/pseuds/Maggiemaye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kili slammed the brakes as soon as they drove past her. A redheaded girl with her thumb in the air, sweating out the August heat in jeans and long sleeves. Her other hand clutched a cardboard sign with “Woodstock” scrawled across it. They were driving through Pennsylvania in the middle of nowhere; there was no telling how long she’d been standing there waiting for someone to pick her up.</p><p>(Alternatively: "The Woodstock AU That No One Asked For")</p>
            </blockquote>





	we are stardust, we are golden

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm still trying to figure out where exactly this came from. I have a WIP to work on, but a couple weeks ago my brain was like, "Yeah but you know what would be cool instead?" And now we have my made-up version of the '60s, fueled by good music and these precious characters. Think of it as a groovy epilogue to BotFA :) If this is your thing I hope you enjoy it, and please feel free to comment!
> 
> The title and italicized lyrics are from "Woodstock" by Joni Mitchell--although I am partial to the Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young version, which is really what planted the seeds for this.

  _can i walk beside you? i have come to lose the smog_

Kili slammed the brakes as soon as they drove past her _._ A redheaded girl with her thumb in the air, sweating out the August heat in jeans and long sleeves. Her other hand clutched a cardboard sign with “Woodstock” scrawled across it. They were driving through Pennsylvania in the middle of nowhere; there was no telling how long she’d been standing there waiting for someone to pick her up.

The sight of her hit Kili like a battering ram.  

“We gotta give her a ride, Fili.”

Fili looked back at the girl hurrying up the road to their van, and his grin turned lewd. “Don’t mind if I do.”

“Shut up.” Kili knew in the pit of his stomach that his brother shouldn’t be talking about her like that. Just like he knew he couldn’t leave this girl stranded on the side of the road.

Her long hair floated out behind her as she drew level with the van, her cheeks flushed from the jog. Fili reached back to swing the door open for her but she hesitated, peering dubiously inside. Kili knew he was staring, but he couldn’t seem to make himself stop. Never before had a girl—no, a _woman,_ he corrected himself—stolen the breath from his chest so completely.

“We’re not as questionable as we look. I promise,” he said when he recovered his ability to speak. He smiled at her, she smiled back, and he had to clear his throat. “I’m Kili. This is Fili.”

“Oh, your names rhyme?” She seemed delighted by this. “Are you brothers?”

“Unfortunately,” said Fili, grinning broadly. “You gettin’ in, babe?”

Her response was to arch an unimpressed eyebrow at him. But she climbed into the van anyway and settled down in the back seat, on the driver’s side. Kili had to sneak looks at her through the rearview mirror, while Fili could turn around for an unimpeded view. “I’m Tauriel.”

Fili nodded. “Woodstock bound, huh?” His Carolina drawl was even more pronounced when talking with Tauriel, who had a touch of preppy Northern accent. Kili made a mental note of this as he put the van in drive.

“Yeah.” She held up her sign again before putting it down on the carpeted floor. “You guys too?”

“’Course. You gonna protest with all the other hippies?”

She shrugged. “If I have to, I guess, but I’m really just going to see Janis Joplin.” She got a look on her face then, a light in her eyes that Kili understood very well. Good music would do that to a person, even just the thought of it. “Who do you guys want to see?”

“CCR!” Kili and Fili yelled in unison, making Tauriel grin.  

“We’ve never seen them live before,” Kili went on, encouraged by her smile.

“And I might never get the chance again. This weekend is my last hurrah,” Fili chimed in.

“What do you mean?”

“Joining the Army Reserves always seems like a good idea at the time, until they call you up.” He shrugged. “I ship out in October.”

Tauriel’s smile vanished and her eyes went wide. ”Oh. Oh, God, um...”

The exchange dropped over Kili’s mood like a wet blanket. Everything he had been trying not to think about came rushing back in a second, and he felt like he might vomit.

“Our uncle says he should be jumping at the chance to go,” he said quietly, gripping the wheel harder. “Says it’s an honor.”

He looked back at Tauriel through the rearview mirror. Her eyes were green-dappled hazel and filled with compassion.

“It’s hard to see the honor in it when I’m scared out of my mind,” said Fili with another offhand shrug. Kili felt himself frown. It was getting more and more infuriating to see his brother act so blasé about the whole thing. October was closing in on them quickly; Fili might have been ready for it, but Kili definitely wasn’t.

Not knowing what else to say, Kili cranked the radio. They’d found a decent rock station, and before long enough good songs played that he could put the future out of his mind. Tauriel knew all the words to “Summer in the City” and sang along under her breath, unconcerned about things like rhythm or key.

“Oh, and I’m sure you’re both such great singers,” she grumbled, catching the brothers snickering at her.

“Hell yes we are,” Kili declared. To prove it, they cranked it up louder and started scream-singing along until Tauriel laughed, open-mouthed and unrestrained. Kili felt an odd sense of pride at the sight. Soon they were all three warbling to every song that played, watching the countryside race by.

When they stopped to switch drivers Kili offered her half of his last Hershey bar. Her fingers brushed against his as she broke off her squares, and he nearly dropped his own half. The contact was electric, an echo of something distant but undeniably strong. Tauriel blinked up at him, looking startled, but she didn’t move her hand.

“Do I know you from somewhere?” she breathed, locking her eyes onto his.

“I don’t think so,” he replied. “I’d remember you.”

 

_and i feel myself a cog in something turning_

 

Tauriel had known, theoretically, that there would be a lot of people at Woodstock. But she would never have been able to fathom the endless churning mob of bodies, laughing and dancing and breathing sweet smoke. It was equal parts unnerving and exciting to be one of so many, strangers on the surface but united by something deeper.

Tauriel blinked as three girls walked past them totally naked, singing along to Sweetwater. Fili and Kili followed them with their eyes.

“Y’know, Tauriel,” Fili said as the girls got lost in the crowd, “you could do a little less standing around and a little more…” He looked her up and down, gesturing to her clothes with a mischievous smirk until Kili punched him.

“Well, what good is picking up a hippie off the side of the road if she doesn’t take her clothes off?”

“Pig,” said Tauriel, but Fili had made it clear he was kidding and they both laughed as she shoved his arm. The air was thick with celebration and it was infectious. 

Unfamiliar men—and women, for that matter—kept brushing up against her and smiling like they expected her to like it. But Tauriel was there for free music, not free love, and the idea of touching any of these people made her skin crawl. She’d always been that way; any time someone made a pass at her, she shrank away. It had never felt right with anyone before.

She and Kili, however, always seemed to be touching. Rather than putting her on edge, it settled her to have her hand in his, or to feel him guide her through the crowds with an arm around her waist. The thought of losing him in the crush of people was more frightening to her than it should have been. Often she found herself winding her fingers in his hair, and Kili would look up at her with such adoration that Tauriel couldn’t believe they had only just met. It was one of those things you read about, the instant connection, the “love at first sight” crap.

Only it wasn’t crap, not with this completely adorable man who loved chocolate and Creedence Clearwater Revival. No discussion seemed to be needed; they simply turned toward each other like it was the most obvious thing in the world. In the midst of her arguments with Thranduil about vacation days, Tauriel had imagined that this concert would be something special, a bright spot in the mundane life she’d built for herself. So far it was turning out to be exactly that, but not for the reasons she might have expected. Kili leaned against her as he cracked a joke with his brother; his warmth felt good and right at her side.

That night the two of them curled up on the grass outside the van while Fili slept in the driver’s seat. Melanie Safka was on stage in the distance, her tremulous voice serenading them from across the woods. Tauriel leaned her cheek against Kili’s gently stroking fingers and gazed up at the stars, with “Tuning My Guitar” just barely touching her ears. She kissed his wrist before she even realized she’d done it. It was so easy with him, so pure.  

“I’m glad it was you that picked me up.”

“I had to,” he whispered. “There was something about seeing you standing there…I knew we needed to be together. It sounds stupid, right?”

Tauriel just smiled and shook her head, moving to rest her forehead against his temple. He really did fit in among the sea of hippies, with his long brown hair and scruffy jawline. The beard felt natural under her lips, and she savored the hitches in his breathing and the little pleasure sounds he made when she touched him.

The sky had been spitting rain for several hours. But the drizzle became a downpour as the night wore on, startling the two from their starry-eyed exploration of one another. Tauriel shrieked, knowing she didn’t have a change of clothes and that she would be miserable the rest of the weekend if she didn’t get dry. But there was still something exhilarating about getting soaked through, and a laugh burst out of her mouth as they darted into the van. Fili, who had been stretched out to sleep, sat up at the sound of the slamming door. He grinned at them as they wrung out their hair, but for once he didn’t seem to have anything dumb to say.

Kili thrust a dry shirt and a pair of boxers at her, avoiding her eyes.

“I swear to God they’re clean.”

“I know, Kili. Thank you. Now both of you turn around!”

She peered at Fili, making sure he wasn’t looking over the seat before peeling off her soaked clothes. The van was roomy, so she and Kili both had space to change at the same time. When she was naked, she allowed a little thrill to zing through her nerve endings at the sight of him in the dark, his back turned to her as he slipped out of his shirt and into a dry pair of jeans. It was for the best that his brother was inches away, or she might have reached out and lowered Kili down to the floor with her. She knew it wouldn’t have been awkward or strange. It would have been just right—inevitable, even. And he was so close, just within reach of her fingers. But she resisted the impulse and got into his clothes without a word. The t-shirt was soft and well-worn.

Kili let her stretch out over the whole back seat when they were ready to sleep, stroking her wet stringy hair as she rested her head in his lap. She could hear him murmuring to her in a language she had never heard before. But as she fell into dreams, she thought the words might be just on the tip of her tongue.

 

_maybe it’s the time of year, but then maybe it’s the time of man_

They’d stocked up on Hershey bars on the road, but on Saturday Kili and Fili realized it was time to scout for actual food. Tauriel was still sound asleep by mid-morning so they left her in the backseat, covered in Kili’s blanket and with one arm dangling over the seat to the floor. Kili brushed her hair back from her face, letting his hand linger on her cheek, before setting off with his brother.

Woodstock was wide awake around them; the crowd was its own collective life form that never seemed to lose energy. It was midday and sunny for once, and Kili was glad he and Fili had taken a cue from the hippies and gone shirtless. Someone passed them a joint as they walked by and Fili took a long drag, closing his eyes as he inhaled.

“While I still can, y’know?” He smiled but refused to catch Kili’s eye. Kili was far from a mind reader, but it didn’t really take one to see that his brother was thinking of Vietnam. He had a college degree, so maybe he would be assigned something safer than the very front lines. But anything could happen during war time. Kili felt as if he knew this all too well.

“Fili. I want to go with you.”

“Hell no,” said Fili automatically.

“But you shouldn’t be over there alone. I told you I’d volunteer if you got called up.”

“And I told _you_ that’s not gonna happen. You’re finishing college, Kili. You belong here.”

“I belong with my brother.”

As Kili spoke, the words set alarm bells ricocheting off the walls of his brain. He looked at Fili and for a moment it was like he was seeing someone else, someone who was and was not his brother. He shook his head; clearly he’d inhaled more fumes over the past day than he’d thought.

“Kili. I don’t want to talk about it,” said Fili. “I wanna talk about you and this girl.”

Kili blinked at the sudden subject change. “What about her?”

“I can’t remember the last time you even _talked_ about a girl, and now there’s one in our van. Wearing your underwear.”

“That’s just out of necessity because she didn’t have any other clothes!” he squawked. “Not because…you know…”

“Kili! Are you fourteen? Your face is the exact same color as Uncle Thorin’s Corvette.”

Kili muttered under his breath but took the joke, as patiently as he could. At least Fili was smiling again.

They got in line for National Guard rations, the first food they could find. Kili had never been a serious hippie, so he could laugh at the irony. The horde might scream themselves hoarse protesting the army, but they sure as hell didn’t protest army-issued food. They took three rations and headed back the way they’d come, their feet squelching into the soft ground. Fili wound up with another joint as they walked; this time Kili took a hit as well, letting it blur the edges of his thoughts.

They returned to the van to find Tauriel right where they’d left her. Kili touched her shoulder and she jerked awake, scrunching her face against the full daylight.

“Oh. Hi,” she mumbled blearily.

“We brought you some breakfast. Or lunch, I guess.” Kili gave her the food and tried not to look at her bra where she’d draped it over the seat to dry. She sat up then and he tried equally hard not to look at her chest, covered as it was by his white t-shirt and nothing else.

They were all quiet for a few minutes as they ate. The van was a welcome safe haven from the mob; Fili might have thrived in a crowd, but Kili only enjoyed it for so long before he got edgy. Tauriel was much the same, he’d noticed.

“I had a really weird dream,” she mused after a while.

“What was it about?”

“All three of us were there, and my friend and his dad too. We were on this mountain, we all had swords and we were fighting these giant gray monsters.” Her eyes got far away. “I think it was snowing.”

“Sounds like someone dropped some acid yesterday while we weren’t looking,” Fili said decisively, around a mouthful of food.

Tauriel gave him a withering look and they bantered a bit. But Kili only half-heard them; his mind was on the snowy mountaintop she had described. He found that he could see it clear as day just for a second, but the image drifted away. No matter how hard Kili tried, he couldn’t seem to call it back.  

 

_and i don’t know who i am but life is for learning_

 

Tauriel waved off the joint when Kili held it out to her; getting stoned wasn’t her thing, even if it seemed to be everyone else’s. It was half-raining again, and the ground had long since become a mud hole. They still sat in it, though, because there weren’t exactly other options and the van had started to feel too small. Tauriel inched her hand closer to his, until their pinkies were touching.

He elbowed her. “Janis tonight.”

“Yeah.” She beamed. “And CCR.”

“If Fili doesn’t make us miss it,” Kili grumbled. “What is he doing?”

“I wouldn’t ask if I were you,” said Tauriel with a laugh, gesturing at the hazy debauchery around them. Fili had wandered off some time ago, presumably to give her and Kili some time alone. They had made good use of it; Kili had a way with storytelling that mesmerized her, whether he was talking about the time he’d seen the Grand Canyon or the dog he and Fili had rescued as kids. Tauriel wished she had more stories of her own, but Kili was a talker once he got started and could do most of the conversational leg work. He had somehow found the one yellow dandelion that hadn’t been trampled by rain or feet, and tucked it into her hair. And Tauriel had finally given in to the urge to run her finger down his naked spine, just to watch him shiver. But now the sun was beginning to set and they were restless for music again. They couldn’t go the stage without Fili, or they’d never find him in the crowd.

When he finally did return, it was with little braids all in his fair hair and a gigantic hickey on the side of his neck. Kili and Tauriel gave him slow applause as he approached, and Fili hammed it up with a deep bow.

It was a good thing they all liked the other bands at Woodstock, because the acts leading up to their favorites seemed to last forever. Fili and Kili whined through the Grateful Dead’s entire set—the band was too out of it to know when to wrap things up. The two of them sat next to each other in the mud, practically vibrating with anticipation, and Tauriel could just imagine them as little boys. The image made her smile.

Finally, in the middle of the night, Creedence Clearwater Revival took the stage. Tauriel hadn’t been the biggest Creedence fan before that night, but watching Kili’s face when they started “Born on the Bayou” was just like watching the stars come out. He and Fili knew every word, every bluesy guitar lick, like the backs of their hands. And later, when Janis Joplin made her appearance, Tauriel suspected that she had the same kind of giddy look about her. They weren’t anywhere near the front of the crowd, so the stage was completely invisible. But it was enough for Tauriel to know that she and Janis were in the same vicinity, breathing even a little of the same air.

Tauriel could tell by listening to Janis sing that she was an old soul, that she’d seen more than enough for one lifetime. It was stupid and she’d never admit it to anyone, but Tauriel felt like she and Janis might understand each other, if they were ever to meet.

“Worth the wait?” Kili called over the music, smiling earnestly up at her.

“Completely.”  

That was the first night they really kissed. Tauriel didn’t care that there were literally thousands of people around; she’d seen people going way farther in broad daylight, so she pressed her mouth down to his, spurred on by the music sizzling in her blood. And soon she even forgot the music, every molecule of her awareness focused on Kili, his tongue caressing hers, his teeth gently taking hold of her bottom lip. They broke apart breathless and beaming, while Fili stared pointedly in the direction of the stage.

“I feel like I’ve been waiting to do that for a long time.”

“Less than a week, huh?” Kili joked, thinking of the day they’d picked her up, but Tauriel didn’t smile back.

“No. Like I’ve waited forever,” she whispered in the dark.

He nodded in solemn agreement.

“Longer than that, I think.”

 

_we are stardust, we are golden, we are billion year old carbon_

 

Much to Fili’s vocal appreciation, Tauriel got into the Woodstock spirit on Sunday and wore her vest as a top. Between the rain, mud, and grass, her once-white blouse was irreparably stained. She wadded it up in a ball and tossed it to a corner of the van.

“Ugh. My hair’s a greaseball,” she grumbled as she craned to see her reflection in the side mirror.

Kili shook his head, rendered a bit speechless by the expanse of new skin. “You look great.”

“I’m not sure I feel great,” she said wryly. “But I do want to go down front one more time before we leave.”  

“One more set,” said Fili, “and then come back. We need to leave with some decent daylight.”

For once, Kili shared his brother’s desire to keep moving. They hadn’t eaten in over twenty-four hours, hadn’t had a full night’s sleep in days—the promise of good rock and roll could make people do crazy things. They’d made their pilgrimage, they had seen what they’d come to see, and as far as Kili was concerned it was time to make their way towards a shower and real food. But he wasn’t about to make Tauriel miss out on anything. She’d been quiet that morning, thoughtful. He was still learning her rhythms, but something seemed off with her. He rambled as they made their way to the stage, trying to cheer her up, but her face was so impassive it was hard to tell if it was working.

Joe Cocker covered “With A Little Help From My Friends,” and it was one of those performances that got right into the soul, sustaining Kili better than food. Tauriel wrapped her arms around him from behind as they swayed. He felt her breasts press against his shoulder blades; her grip was tight, possessive, as if she were trying to shield him with her own body.

And in a moment it all came crashing back into focus. Kili’s knees nearly buckled with the force of it, an entire distant lifetime suddenly crammed into a brain not prepared to hold it. In his mind’s eye he saw Tauriel through prison bars, and again through a fever-dream. There had been a bloody mountaintop and a thousand years of waiting. It was all there; they were his memories but someone else’s, too. As the music on stage got more and more frenzied, Kili’s mind threatened to burst with remembered carnage, the smell of blood, the clash of sharp steel. But in the midst of it all there was _her_ , glowing with an inner light and tangling her fingers with his own.

He turned around in Tauriel’s arms, tucked his face into her cleavage and breathed in deep, as if he could inhale her. She gripped him tighter as he exhaled hot and open-mouthed across her chest. She smelled disgusting, but so did he, and it didn’t matter now that he knew just how empty his arms had been for far too long. Her hands began to shake where they gripped his shoulders, and he thought she had to be remembering too.  

“I lost you, Kili,” she whispered, leaning down to brush his ear rather than shout over the screaming guitars. “I lost you.”

“I’m here.” He couldn’t lift his face to hers, not yet. He was almost afraid to look into her eyes and see everything reflected there. It might open a floodgate that he wouldn’t know how to close.    

“I’m not going home.” Her voice trembled, but she was resolute. “I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

“Fine by me,” he said into her collarbone. If she’d asked, he would have followed her anywhere.

 

_and we got to get ourselves back to the garden_

 

“I’m sorry if I messed up your weekend.”

Tauriel was behind the wheel with Fili next to her, while Kili napped in the back. The motion of the road had knocked him out quickly, his head tipping backward as he’d slumped down. Fili was looking a little heavy-lidded himself, and Tauriel suspected he’d be sawing logs along with his brother very soon.

“No you’re not.” Fili smiled at her, and she could almost picture him with thick armor and a long mustache. She hadn’t really known him as a dwarf, but she remembered how watchful he had been over Kili. Some things did not change, it seemed, even across time and species.

“It’s okay, though. I had fun with you,” he went on. “But not nearly as much fun as my brother did, clearly. Which, I’ll just say, is your loss, lady. You missed out on _this.”_ He gestured up and down his own body with a smirk.

Tauriel snorted, not taking her eyes off the road. “You never run out of those, do you?”

“Not really,” he said proudly. “It’s my gift for humanity, man.”

“You mean your body or your terrible lines?”

“All right, so I have two gifts for humanity.”

Tauriel shook her head, smiling, and they lapsed into silence for a while. She thought he might have fallen asleep, but he spoke up again.

“It’s kind of weird, because I guess we don’t know each other that well, but…I think it’s good Kili met you.” His face went thoughtful. “Now I know he’s gonna be okay while I’m gone. He’s young and dumb, you know.”

“So are you. So am I, for that matter,” she pointed out, even though none of those statements were true anymore. With what she knew now, Tauriel didn’t think she would ever feel young again.

“Yeah, but you can still watch out for him. I’ll go out on a limb and guess that we aren’t dropping you back off in Hickville where we found you.”

Tauriel looked fondly back at Kili’s slack-jawed face through the rearview mirror. “We’re talking about me going to Chapel Hill with him, getting a job while he finishes up at UNC. I’ll take care of him.”

“You better.” He shut his eyes and leaned against the passenger window. “Or I’ll…kick your ass. Or something. I’m not the greatest at threats.”

She just chuckled and let the conversation drift, and before long Fili was snoring softly into the window. Neither of the brothers stirred when she turned on the radio, just loud enough hum along to. She gripped the wheel tighter as she looked at them, bracing against the sudden surge of affection squeezing her chest. In the space of a few days, this van and these boys had become her home, more so than anything she’d had with Legolas and Thranduil.

They slept on for fifty more miles, until Tauriel stopped to fill up. Fili roused quickly and sauntered into the station, while Kili groaned and rubbed his eyes until Tauriel was finished pumping the gas. When she opened the door he patted the seat next to him, and Tauriel felt her smile go soft. She scooted to sit beside him, only to have him snuggle against her with a wide yawn.

“Wake up.” She nudged him off despite how good he felt against her side. “You’re driving next.”

“I’m awake,” he said with a grin. “Just missed you. Where’s Fili?”

“Getting food, I think. He’ll be right back.”

Kili nodded, looking out the window at the gas station. Tauriel placed a hand on his shoulder when his smile slipped away.

“What if he never remembers?” he asked softly.

“He’s still your brother. Nothing will change that.”

Kili nodded again. As an elf Tauriel might have hesitated to offer him comfort. As a woman, however, she saw no reason not to place her arms around his shoulders and draw him close to her.

“He’s smart, Kili.”

“He is,” Kili agreed. “And he’s brave. He’ll make it.”

He looked up at her, a smile playing around his lips in spite of it all.

“And we’ll make it, too, won’t we?”

“Of course we will,” Tauriel replied, knowing it was true. Their love was older than the world, after all, enduring across impossible boundaries. Here, in this world, there was nothing they couldn’t conquer together.

Kili leaned over to kiss behind her jaw. At the sound of her appreciative sigh he moved down to suck on her neck, sneaking a warm hand up under her shirt as he did so. His touch was everything slow and luxurious; even after a weekend without showering it was heaven to have him close. Tauriel ached for the moment when they could be behind a closed door, with nothing holding them back from each other.

They would be stopping off that night to sleep in real beds, a luxury after days of passing out in the van just from sheer exhaustion. As his lips worked at her neck, visions of Kili in a steaming hotel shower got Tauriel’s body humming in anticipation. Somehow, she didn’t think he’d mind company.

His voice in her ear startled her.

“Do you think she could have loved me?”

The question sounded different now, coming from a man instead of a delirious dwarf—a little twangy, playful, and much more confident. And after all this time, she was finally getting to respond. Her first answer was wordless, a moan around his tongue as she pulled him into a ravenous kiss.

 _“Yes,”_ she breathed into his open mouth, the word half-swallowed when he surged toward her again, pressing her back against the seat—

“Get a room,” Fili shouted as he hopped back into the van, startling them apart. “And Kili, get up front. We gotta haul ass if we want to make it to Philly tonight.”

Kili grumbled his way into the driver’s seat and started the van while Tauriel’s shoulders shook with silent amusement. Another wave of fondness rushed over her as she listened to the brothers gripe at each other around mouthfuls of gas station snacks.

They would make it. Maybe the memories would come back to Fili someday, and they would all talk about that first strange, surreal life. But for now Kili had cranked the radio and “Wild Thing” was playing, and Tauriel figured the best thing to do was enjoy the music as the highway stretched behind them.


End file.
